


Short Destiel Fic

by SomeQueerKid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeQueerKid/pseuds/SomeQueerKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little Destiel smut that's a little fluffy and out-of-character, oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Short Destiel Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first somewhat good fanfiction-I used to write REALLY crappy ons on Quotev, but now here I am! I made this on Christmas Eve, and here it's two months later, ooooops. Feel free to comment any suggestions, comments, praise, etc...   
> Enjoy (hopefully)!

I can imagine it: my hands on his waist, lips on his mouth, desperate desire escaping from me into him; feeling his hands grasp me; feeling his tongue slide down the skin of my thighs; feeling his lips graze my cheek, trailing lower and lower, until-  
“Cas!” he says, waving in my face a little and smirking slightly; my Dean always has that little smirk of his. “Are you thinking about that reaper chick again?”  
“No, Dean,” I sigh, exasperated with him; his ignorance to the signals I keep trying to send is aggravating: I raised him from perdition, and just recently, when Naomi was controlling me, his proclamation of needing me was what awoke me from the nightmare of killing him.  
I’m still haunted by the memory of what almost was.  
“Cas, get your crap together, I’m talking to you,” Dean interrupts my thoughts again. “Kevin is translating The Angel Tablet as we speak, and I need you on board with this.”  
“Maybe I don’t want to be...” I murmur to myself.  
“Wait a second, Cas,” Dean says, taking a hand off of the Impala’s wheel to shake my shoulder, “Did I hear you correctly?!”  
“Yes, you heard me correctly, Dean!” I throw my hands in the air. “I don’t care about the fucking Angel Tablet! I couldn’t care less about what we get from it.”  
Dean shakes his head, his face hardening. “I can’t believe, after all we’ve been through together…”  
“EXACTLY, Dean!” I scream, tears streaming before I can stop them; I’m so sick of it… the way he just turns a blind eye to my feelings, and the way he just blindly assumes I can help him with everything he needs without breaking. “We’ve been through so much together, and you still can’t get it through your thick head.”   
“Cas, what the hell? Get what through my thick head?”  
“I love you, you assbutt! All these years I’ve been risking my life to help you, throwing my entire existence on the line for you, Dean! I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, I did it all for you.”  
And he just sits there, driving. Stunned. His green eyes glowing with the new-found understanding he’s gained. And we pull into the motel parking lot. He jumps out of the car and goes into the motel, while I’m still sitting here, wondering what he is making of the proclamation I’ve been dying to make since he came to the Earth and forgot all of the love we had shared, fighting our way out of Hell.  
He returns with a key in his hand and he drives us to our motel room. I say nothing; I will not beg for a word from him about this; he must respond to me. I will not beg for it, I will not allow him to know the fear inside of me… in silence, I follow him inside after he has taken the keys out of ignition, and slung his duffel over that beautiful shoulder of his; he turns the key in the lock and leads me inside. I stare at the other side of the room after I enter, wondering…  
Then he slams the motel room door, and carelessly tosses the duffel across the room.  
I turn in surprise. “Dean!” I manage to gasp as he strides towards me, anger and frustration igniting in his face and fiery emerald eyes. And then he takes me in his arms and presses his mouth onto mine.  
I moan; I’ve imagined and imagined this moment: the moment he finally kisses me and its wondrous feeling; his mouth would taste like sweat and burgers and it would taste like his very essence.  
But now it’s so much more than that: his mouth tastes like all of those things, but his tongue collides with mine, ferocity screaming from his body and his panting.  
I gasp, and push him away slightly. “Dean.”  
He looks into my blue his with his green; a consuming love I never could have imagined has ignited in those eyes. “Castiel… I love you and I have never admitted it to myself. Underneath… underneath all of this self-hatred…” he’s tearing up now, his out-of-character admittance clearly taking great strength. “I have loved you. I love you, dammit, and I just want to fuck you like I’ve never fucked anyone else, because I love you. I need to this, Cas. Will you allow me?”  
I have a sharp intake of breath; Dean is never like this: open and non-sarcastic and loving. And the way he has broken his barriers for me is too much.  
“Dean, I want you to fuck me in a way the pizza man never could.”  
Dean just laughs and he’s kissing my neck and ripping my clothes off and I’m moaning and moaning. My hands somehow find a way to his belt and I am unbuckling it and pulling down his pants. My trench coat is all the way across the room, tossed away by Dean, along with all of my other clothes. Except for the last piece: my underwear.  
I look into Dean’s eyes as he slides off his shirt and I his pants.  
“Fuck me,” I say, following Dean’s example and breaking my barriers.  
Dean smiles and reaches for his duffel; he pulls out a bottle of something.  
“What’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.  
“Lube.”  
“What’s lube?”  
Dean laughs as he takes my hand and pours a nickel-sized amount of lube into my hand; he leans into me and whispers in my ear, “It makes things more fun.” He grasps my hand and has me grasp his penis. Instinctively, I curl it into a fist and move it up and down, slowly. Dean moans and he arches his back slightly. My other hand pushes him onto the bed as I continue to move my hand along his penis, faster and faster.   
Dean moans loudly, his hands grasping the sheets for support and I stop.  
He looks at me and shakes his head, laughing.   
“You tease,” he exclaims, before reaching up and flipping me over; he is on top of me now.  
His face presses to my cheek. “Relax,” he says.  
Then he’s kissing my neck as his penis gently begins to penetrate my ass.  
“Oh, Dean,” I gasp; I can’t help it. There’s this feeling I’ve never known before: the feeling of making love with someone you truly love.  
It’s the best sex anyone could ever have.  
His penis enters my anus and he begins thrusting.   
“FUCK!” I scream, and my hands find the headboard and I grasp it for support; Dean’s thrusting, faster and faster, and now one of his hands is pounding my penis, the other grasping my left hand for support.  
We hold hands as he thrusts and pounds and thrusts; we moan loudly, our voices reaching synchronized volume.  
I laugh. “Everyone can probably hear us now.” I turn my head to look at him.  
He is smiling down at me and he leans down to kiss me. “Let them,” he says.  
And then I break.  
My cum spurts onto the sheets and I feel my back give way.   
Dean collapses on top of me, panting; I feel his weight, heavy, and push him off; I turn over and place my hands on either side of his head and look into his eyes.  
“I love you,” I whisper, and press my mouth against his once more.  
When I pull away and rest my head against his chest, he lays a hand across my lower back and another strokes my hair; he kisses my forehead.  
“I love you, Cas, forever.”


End file.
